Glee Awakening
by gleeme33
Summary: Spring Awakening, Glee style. Rating might change to M later on.
1. Author's Note, Full Summary and Prolog

_Author's Note_

_Spring Awakening _(the Broadway musical – not the play) _Glee _style. And yes, you might think this should be rated M, but I took all the M rated parts and are putting them in T rated description. :) You do not need any knowledge of the musical _Spring Awakening _to read this, but it would be especially enjoyable if you did. And yeah, I do know that Jonathan Groff, who plays Jesse St. James, is the Original Broadway actor who played Melchior, but I _couldn't _do St. Berry, so Finn is the Melchior in this story. This might seem kind of confusing, but you'll get it once you read it. :) Thanks and enjoy.

_The Girls – _

Miss Wendla Bergmann - - - - Rachel Berry (duh)

Miss Ilse Neumann - - - - - - - Quinn Fabray

Miss Martha Bessel - - - - - - Santana Lopez

Miss Thea - - - - - - - - - - - - - Brittany S. Peirce

Miss Anna - - - - - - - - - - - - - Tina Cohen-Chang

_The Boys – _

Melchior Gabor - - - - - - - - Finn Hudson

Moritz Stiefel - - - - - - - - - Noah Puckerman (remember – it's AU)

Ernst Robel - - - - - - - - - - Blaine Anderson

Hanschen Rilow - - - - - - - Kurt Hummel

Georg - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Sam Evans

Otto - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Artie Abrams

_The Adult Women – _

Frau Bergmann (Wendla's mother) - - - - Shelby Corcoran

Frau Gabor (Melchior's mother) - - - - - - Emma Pillsbury

Frau Bessel (Martha's mother) - - - - - - - Terri Schuster

Fraulein Knuppeldick (Professor) - - - - - Sue Sylvester

Fraulein Grossenbustenhalter (Piano teacher) - - - Holly Holiday

_The Adult Men –_

Herr Gabor (Melchior's father) - - - - - Will Schuster

Herr Stiefel (Moritz's father) - - - - - - Bryan Ryan

Herr Rilow (Hanschen's father) - - - - Burt Hummel

Herr Neumann (Ilse's father) - - - - - - Russell Fabray

Herr Sonnenstich (Professor) - - - - - - Sandy Ryerson

Headmaster Knochenbruch - - - - - - - Figgions

Father Kaulbach (Priest) - - - - - - - - Karofsky (An adult in this AU)

Doctor Schmidt - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Dr. Carl Howell

_Ensemble – _

Swing Girls – Mercedes Jones, Lauren Zizes, Becky Jackson, Sunshine Corazon

Swing Boys – Mike Chang, Jesse St. James, Wes, David, Thad

_Full Summary_

"_Once in a generation, if we're lucky, an unexpected new musical comes along and changes _everything_. That is the thrilling achievement of _Spring Awakening." – John Heilpern, _New York Observer _

_Spring Awakening _is a beautiful Broadway musical about love, sexuality, loss, and finding our own peace within ourselves. One of the first ever 'rock-musicals' to hit Broadway – and not to mention the boat-load of _Tony Awards _it received – the show reached audiences of all ages, shapes, sizes, races and everything and everyone else in-between. Led by Lea Michele, Jonathan Groff, John Gallagher Jr. and Lauren Pritchard, a musical of such magnitude will forever by cherished in the hearts, souls and minds of it's fans.

The story of _SA _revolves around Wendla Bergmann, a sixteen-year-old girl growing up in 1891 Germany. She laments that her mother never gave her 'a way to handle things' by never explaining the things a girl her age ought to know – and back then they couldn't just _Google _it! The other girls in the town have a similar problem, all except for Wendla's friend Ilse, a girl Wendla's age who ran away from home after being verbally, physically, and sexually abused by her father. Wendla dreams of getting away from where she is in life, and wishes for a better one where she has rights and 'can do anything'. Meanwhile, Melchior Gabor is a seventeen-year-old boy growing up in Wendla's town. He and his right-hand-man, Moritz, both share Wendla's wishes of getting out. The four were childhood friends, but when Melchior and Wendla re-unite, they fall passionately in love, while Moritz and Ilse discover the meaning of 'hope'.

In this AU, the _Glee _characters we all know and love are faced with just that – contemplating love and sin, figuring out the enigma of sexuality, coping with loss and grief, expecting themselves for who they are, and learning that life goes on.

_Couples_

Finchel (Wendlichor), Quick (Ilse/Moritz), Klaine (Hernst), possible Brittana if I can make it work, and more may come in later

_Friendships_

Rachel/Quinn, Finn/Puck, Finn/Quinn, Rachel/Brittany, Rachel/Tina, Rachel/Santana, Quinn/Santana, Kurt/Finn, Blaine/Puck, Sam/Artie, Sam/Finn, and more may come in later

_Prolog_

_Germany, 1881 – _

"Happy Birthday, Rachel!"

Rachel Berry's best friend, Quinn Fabray, buried her in a massive hug. It was the girl's sixth birthday, and for Rachel that meant so many great things. For starters, there were the presents – Rachel had already received a new dress from her mother, and a gold cross-necklace from her grandmother when she was in town last week. 'Promise me you'll never take it off, Miss Rachel', her grandmother said. Rachel promised. She loved when her grandmother called her _Miss _Rachel – it made her feel so grown up.

"Qui-iiin!" Rachel yelled once her friend had all but knocked her over. "Thank you!"

Another plus about today – her mother gave her permission to stay out late tonight with her friends. Quinn, Puck, Finn and Rachel had been playing games in the woods together since as long as the four of them could remember, but there was one game that the group had dubbed extra-special. _Pirates_. It was such fun for them – running through the woods playing pirates with caption Finn and peg-leg Puck, usually the object was that the two boys had to duel to rescue the girls. Rachel and Quinn would protest sometimes, but other times they would just sit back and enjoy.

"_Raaaaaaa_-_chel_!" Puck's voice called as he and Finn trampled through the woods to get to the girls. "Happy birthday, matey! Since you're six and all now, you can where my pirate hat today!" This was a big deal, as the only other person that Puck even let _touch _his coveted pirate hat was Quinn.

"Where's Finny?" She asked, after thanking Puck and accepting his gift and another birthday hug.

"He's c-coming. He had a present for you," Puck said.

"Really?"

"Yup!" It was Finn's voice. He ran over to the three of them, and also gave Rachel a hug. After about a second though, they pulled away quickly. "Happy Birthday, Miss Rachel!" He had one hand behind his back, and pulled out a bright pink flower from behind him.

"Oh, Finny it's perfect!" She exclaimed, taking the flower from him and smelling it. After a beat of just looking at it, she put the flower behind her ear.

"Perfect," laughed Quinn, clapping her hands. "Just like the Bohemians do!"

"Aye!" Puck yelled out. "Now let's play pirates!"

And the three of them played and played, until the sun went down.

**Thoughts? Ideas? Comments? Anything? Let me know! Review!**


	2. Act One: Scene One

**So here's chapter one – no flames please. I didn't want to do a carbon copy of the Broadway script, so I just have it here with me for reference. Also, this might change to M, because let's face it, the themes in **_**Spring Awakening **_**are very mature. Anyway, I'll let you guys know. **

**Also, I feel I should warn you now – the people who are reading this who have never seen **_**SA**_** – it **_**will**_** be an emotional rollercoaster. It **_**will**_** make you throw something across the room. It **_**will**_** be beautifully romantic and painfully sad and horrifyingly dark. But most of all it **_**will**_** be a love story. Just thought you should know. Thanks and enjoy.**

_Act One – Scene One_

_Germany, 1891 – Ten years later – _

Miss Rachel Berry should have been as giddy as a schoolgirl today. She should have felt on top of the world. She should have been giggling and as bubbly as a lively chipmunk. Why? Because today was her sixteenth birthday. Today she was truly not a child anymore – today she was a young woman.

And she felt _awful_.

So here she stood, the very girl in question, her legs nearly quivering now, as she looked herself over in her full-length mirror. Almost out of habit, she clutched the now old and almost-rusty cross necklace that draped around her neck. It was nearly ten years ago that her grandmother had given it to her, and the girl kept her promise of never taking it off. She gripped the dangling cross in her palm, the once-shinny gold amulet almost making a mark on the inside of her hand.

The more the girl studied her reflection, the unhappier she felt with herself. She felt she wasn't beautiful, like she should be. She felt that every girl in town – once children, too, and now young women like Miss Rachel – were _beautiful_…and she just…_wasn't_. Brittany, Tina, and even Santana, who always wore her hair back in braids, were all strikingly gorgeous in their own ways. Especially Quinn Fabray, when she still lived in the town, would stun people with her beauty. From the time she was about ten, people would whisper about her, and her father would smile and nod proudly. Now, the blonde girl who was once Rachel's closest friend, lived in Priapia, the artists' colony, as a Bohemian. They say she chopped off her beautiful golden locks, packed her things, and never looked back.

Sometimes, Rachel wished she could do just that, too.

_Mama who bore me_

_Mama who gave me_

_No way to handle things_

_Who made me so sad_

_Mama, the weeping_

_Mama, the angels_

_No sleep in Heaven, or Bethlehem_

_Some pray that one day – _

_Christ will come a'-callin'_

_They light a candle,_

_And hope that it glows – _

_And some just lie there,_

_Crying, for him to come and find them – _

_But when he comes they don't know how to go._

_Mama who bore me_

_Mama who gave me_

_No way to handle things_

_Who made me so bad_

_Mama, the weeping_

_Mama, the angels_

_No sleep in Heaven, or Bethlehem._

"Rachel?" It was her mother. With another knock, Frau Berry entered her daughter's room.

"Ma_ma_…" the girl rolled her eyes. Her mother was always bugging her these days with silly, stupid things…and not answering her when she'd ask a more adult-like question. It _really _got on Rachel's nerves.

"Why are you wearing _that_?"

And that was another thing – it seemed that recently her mother was always mandating what Rachel should wear. 'No, that's too short on you', or 'No, that goes down to low'. The girl was _sick of it_. She sighed, and turned around to face her mother. There was nothing wrong with this dress in Rachel's mind…the opposite, actually – she _loved _this one, and it _was _her sixteenth birthday after all!

"Please let me where this one, Mama! I _love _this one! I – "

"Rachel Berry, you _cannot _leave this house dressed like _that_! And on a day like _today_…" Rachel smiled at the way her mother said the word 'today'. She _had_ remembered her birthday after all! "…Just last night, too, the stork visited your sister and brought her another little baby girl…" Okay, well…_never mind then _about the fact that it was her youngest child's sixteenth birthday – the day she became a young woman! Rachel shook it off, however, and smiled.

"I can't wait to see her!" She said as happily as she could.

"Then put on something presentable, and we'll go." As Frau Berry tried to walk out of the room, Rachel turned back around sharply from her dresser.

"Wait, Mama, don't you think it's time you tell me?" Her mother froze, and turned around to face her youngest daughter again.

"Tell you _what_?" Rachel scoffed at this answer.

"Honestly!" She stamped her foot. "You can't really think that _I _still believe in _the stork_! Please, Mama, just tell me how it happens! You must've told two more children before me – why can't you just tell _me_?"

"Rachel Berry, _what _has gotten into you? You – "

"No!" _Not _another lecture…not _today_! "You just need to accept that your baby girl has grown up!" She put her hands on her hips.

"You're driving me mad, you are! You're breaking your mother's heart!" Rachel's lips drew closed at this, but she let out a feeble:

"_Please_…" There was silence for a moment, but Rachel thought that her puppy-dog-eyes were working pretty well. She was proven correct when her mother said:

"Very well, I'll tell you everything…" Rachel smiled. "…But not today!" Her smile flattened, and then curved into a full-blown frown. "Tomorrow – or the day after or the day after or the – "

"_Today_, Mama! I need to know _today_!" She put emphasis on the word 'today', but her mother didn't randomly smile and shout 'happy birthday!'. It was almost like she was _purposely _not bringing it up at all! "I'll kneel at your feet if you can't say it to my face…" Rachel continued. "…And you can speak as if I weren't even here! _Please_!" Her mother sighed, waited for a few long, silent beats, and finally surrendered.

"Very well…I'll tell you," and she had Rachel do exactly what she said she would – kneel at her feet so the woman could talk as if her daughter wasn't even there.

"Yes?"

"Well…in order for a woman to have a baby…"

"Yes…?"

"She must be _married_ and…and _love_ her husband. Love him in her own…_special_ way that only she can…love him with her whole…_heart_. There. Now you know everything!"

But Rachel wasn't buying it: "Mama!"

"Rachel, _enough _of this! Now change and go into town, why don't you?"

Her mother left the room with a slam of the door, and her youngest daughter flopped onto her bed and let out a frustrated, high-pitched noise into her pillow. Although her mother had told her to change, Rachel saw no point in that, and went into town in her _favorite_ white dress, with her _favorite_ black over-the-knee socks and her _favorite_ black ballet flats. Maybe her mother thought it was too short, but so what? If _she_ didn't like it, then _she _shouldn't wear it, right?

The town, although small as it was, was buzzing with activity this morning. Rachel, just like the other girls, had grown up here and knew it like they knew the backs of their hands. There was a general store, a church, a boy's school, restaurants, and so many other things that the girl couldn't count them on two hands. Rachel, however, secretly dreamed of a different place…a place where she'd be treated with just as many rights as the boys and men, a place where she could learn and go to school, a place where she could be _free_…

"Happy birthday, Rachel!" A voice in the distance called. When she looked up, Rachel saw her three best friends in town – Santana, Brittany and Tina – running toward her. It was Tina who'd yelled, and the three of them engulfed her in a hug when they'd all gotten over to her.

"Thanks, you guys…" she breathed. At least _someone _remembered.

In the distance, over the shoulders of her friends, she could see two boys walking to school. Rachel smiled. The two boys had once been two of her three best friends…Noah Puckerman and Finny Hudson. Puck saw Rachel looked at them, elbowed Finn to look also, and nodded in the girl's direction while walking off. Finn, however, stopped for a second and just…looked at her. Finally, he mouthed 'happy birthday', and walked off in the direction that Noah had.

Rachel's heart jumped. All these years, and he'd remembered.

_Mama who bore me_

_Mama who gave me_

_No way to handle things_

_Who made me so sad_

_Mama, the weeping_

_Mama, the angels_

_No sleep in Heaven, or Bethlehem_

_Some pray that one day – _

_Christ will come a'-callin'_

_They light a candle,_

_And hope that it glows – _

_And some just lie there,_

_Crying, for him to come and find them – _

_But when he comes they don't know how to go._

_Mama who bore me_

_Mama who gave me_

_No way to handle things_

_Who made me so bad_

_Mama, the weeping_

_Mama, the angels_

_No sleep in Heaven, or Bethlehem!_

**Review?**


	3. Act One: Scene Two

**I know I haven't updated in longer then I want to, but I'm in all honors classes except for math, so I won't be updating to any of my stories as much as I'd like. **

**Also, I changing this rating to M. I've never written an M rated story before but I realized the **_**Spring Awakening **_**is too dark and explicit not to be M. I don't want to make this piece any more or less dark, explicit, or anything else then **_**SA**_**, because it **_**is **_**based on it after all. So yeah. Thanks and enjoy.**

_Act One – Scene Two_

The woodsy path that Finn and Puck walked to school everyday changed with the seasons. At the beginning, it was crisp with the colors of fall. Some, it was white, and cold, with the feel of winter. And at the end of the school year, it would be green, dotted with color. Today, it was turning shades of orange, yellow, and brindle with the swaying trees. As Finn and Puck continued their walk to school, the subject the two boys were speaking of changed quickly once they passed by their childhood friend Miss Rachel.

"Do you remember when we were children?" Finn started. "When we were young, and we'd spend all day and all night playing in woods, and in the hayloft, with Rachel and Quinn…"

"You mean _Miss _Rachel and _Miss _Quinn now," Puck looked up at him.

"Erm…right."

"Do you miss them?" Puck asked. "I miss them."

"I know," Finn sighed. "I miss them, too. I miss the way things used to be..."

But by then they could here the old church's bell chiming in the distance. Both boys looked at each other for a moment, and then took off, speeding, towards the school building. Thankfully, they could there just in time and narrowly escaped the wrath of Herr Ryerson, their almost always short-tempered professor.

"Alright, boys, find your seats…" he said as they hustled into the classroom. "_Quickly_!" As they ran through the rows of desks to get to their seats, Puck tripped over his un-tied shoe, and Herr Ryerson shook his head. He muttered something under his breath that sounded like 'bumbling idiot' before starting the class.

"Now," he started. "Let's see who's done their homework, shall we? Virgil's _Aeneid_. Who would like to start?" No one moved, or even made the slightest sound. "Herr Abrams!" Poor Artie Abrams was just unlucky enough to be within his teacher's viewpoint. "From the beginning!" He boy stood up and recited:

"_Arma virumgue cano, Troiae qui primus ab oris_…"

"Better, Herr Abrams," he said. "Herr Evans, continue!"

"…_vi superum saevae memorem Iunonis obi ram_..."

"Good," the teacher continued to pick on more students. "Herr Hummel!"

"…_multa quoque et bello passus, dum conderet urbem_…"

"Very well done, Herr Hummel," Kurt breathed a sigh of relief at his teacher's words and sat back down. "Herr Anderson!"

"_…Italiam, fato profugus, Laviniaque venit litora_…"

"Herr Puckerman!"

But, alas, Puck was asleep.

"_Herr Puckerman_!" Seeing how angry his teacher was, Finn shook Puck's shoulder from behind until he woke up with a snort.

"Y-yes…s-sir?"

"Continue, please, Herr Puckerman."

"Uh…um…" Puck hesitated, but then started to recite: "…_Laviniaque venit litora, multum olim_ – "

"_Multum _'olim'?" Their teacher nearly screamed. "So Virgil's protagonist has already suffered so much in 'the years to come'? Do you have any idea _what _you are saying, Noah Puckerman?"

"I…I…um…"

"Excuse me, Herr Ryerson," Finn said, speaking up. "But could you not consider my good friend's answer to be correct? Just think of it, sir! Virgil's main protagonist agonizing in the sufferings so much in 'the years to come'…a foreshadowing, sir – or maybe, have you ever considered that perhaps he knew his fate was sealed already?"

"…Herr Hudson, I've no time for this _nonsense_! In all my years of teaching, I – "

" – Have never perhaps considered, sir…another way of looking at things? Another way of – "

"_Enough_!" The teacher yelled. "I'll have no more of this! Now, _all _of you – " he shot a glance at Finn and Puck – "the next twelve lines on slate – from memory!" There were moans from the boys as they each sat down at their desks and took out their slates and chalk, while their teacher left the room.

Maybe most of the boys in his class felt that life had no more joys then simply getting good grades and impressing the contemptible bourgeois adults who make up this contemptible bourgeois society, but Finn knew life had more then that. It _had _to have more then…_that_! There was more to life then this stifling, repressive town. There was _more _to life that! Maybe he just had to _find _it. Maybe he just had to leave this place and never look back. And maybe…just maybe…one day, he would.

_All that's known – _

_In history, in science_

_Overthrown – _

_At school, at home, by blind men!_

_You doubt them_

_And soon they bark and hound you – _

_Till everything you say is just another bad about you!_

_All they say _

_Is "Trust in What is Written"_

_Wars are made – _

_And somehow that is wisdom_

_Thought is suspect – _

_And money is their idol – _

_And nothing is okay unless it's scripted in their Bible!_

_But I know – _

_There's so much more to find – _

_Just in looking through myself_

_And not at them!_

_Still, I know – _

_To trust my own true mind – _

_And to say: there's a way through this_

_On I go – _

_To wonder and to learning_

_Name the stars and know their dark returning – _

_I'm calling – _

_To know the world's true yearning – _

_The hunger that a child feels for everything they're shown!_

_You watch me – _

_Just watch me – _

_I'm calling_

_And one day all will know – _

_You watch me – _

_Just watch me – _

_I'm calling, _

_I'm calling,_

_And one day – _

_All will know!_

"Finn, I can't thank you enough!" Puck whispered into his friend's ear as he continued writing Latin on his tiny chalkboard. "It's just…" he yawned. "…I-I didn't sleep at all last night."

"Why ever not?" Finn asked his friend. "Bad dreams?"

"_Terrible _dreams!" Puck nearly shook in his boots right then and there. "I…I dreamt of…a woman…a blonde, in sky-blue stockings…climbing over the – "

" – Oh," Finn concluded. "_That _kind of dream."

"Yes," Puck sighed. "I…It's so mortifying to say aloud…I…"

"Relax," said Finn. "Everyone's had those kinds of dreams. I have, you have – _everyone_ has! Why, I've heard a rumor that Sam over there – " he nodded toward the blonde boy – "dreams of his piano teacher."

"Fraulein Holiday?"

"The very same!" Finn laughed hardily at the expense of his classmate.

"But…that's horrifying!"

"It's not _that bad_, Puck…"

"Yes it _is_!" Puck starred at his friend, his mouth agape. "How could you even say that it _isn't_? I mean, how do we even know – "

" – Well _I _got it out of books," Finn interrupted. "So it can't be _that _odd."

"_You _got it out of _books_?" Puck asked. "Don't your parents – "

"My parents don't care," Finn said. "Well, my mother doesn't. She thinks I can make my own decisions unlike anyone else in this town. And my father is just out of town for work too much to notice."

Puck _wished _his father would go out of town too much to notice…

These days, Puck wished a lot of things.

"What books?" Puck asked another question.

"I've returned them to the library by now…" Finn answered. "But I guess I could write a summary for you…unless you don't – "

"No, Finn, please! Write it down – _all _of it – as if you were writing an essay for a class…"

"Are you sure? It made an atheist out me," Finn warned Puck but he really didn't care.

"I'm _sure_!"

"Fine then – I'll give it to you when I can."

At least now, Puck would have some answers.

_God, I dreamed there was an angel_

_Who could hear me through the wall,_

_As I cried out, like in Latin – _

_"This is so not life at all!_

_Help me out-out-of this nightmare",_

_Then I heard her silver call – _

_She said: "Hey just give it time, kid_

_I come to one and all" – _

_She said: "Give me that hand, please_

_And the itch you can't control – _

_Let me teach you how to handle_

_All the sadness in your soul – _

_Oh, we'll work that silver magic_

_Then we'll aim it at the wall",_

_She said: "Love may make you blind kid – _

_But I wouldn't mind at all"!_

_It's the bitch of living!_

_(Bitch, just the bitch)_

_With nothing but your hand – _

_(Just the bitch, yeah)_

_Just the bitch of living!_

_As someone you can't stand_

_It's the bitch of living!_

_With nothing going on – _

_(Nothing going on)_

_Just the bitch of living_

_Asking: what went wrong?_

_Do they think we want this?_

_Oh, who knows?..._

"D-, huh?" Kurt observed, walking by Blaine Anderson's desk to see the paper he'd gotten back.

"'Guess so," Blaine sighed.

"I could help you study sometime!" Kurt tried to keep as cool as possible. "You know…if you want…"

"Really?" The taller boy asked excitedly. "Thank you, Kurt! You'd really do that for me?"

"I'd do anything for you…"

_See, there's showering in gym class – _

_Bobby Maler, he's the best,_

_Looks so nasty in those khakis – _

_God, my whole life's like some test!_

_Then there's Marianna Wheelan – _

_As if she'd return my calls – _

_It's like just kiss some ass, man,_

_Then you can screw 'em all – _

_Oh!_

_It's the bitch of living!_

_(It's the bitch of living)_

_And living in your head – _

_(In your head)_

_It's the bitch of living – _

_And sensing God is dead_

_It's the bitch of living!_

_You watch me – _

_Just watch me – _

_And trying to get ahead_

_I'm calling you one day – _

_It's the bitch of living – _

_Just getting out of bed_

_All will know!_

_It's the bitch of living_

_Living, Living – _

_All will know!_

_And getting what you get_

_Just the bitch of living – _

_And knowing this is it – _

_God, is this it?_

_This can't be it – _

_Oh God, what a bitch!_

Soon after, the old church bell rang out in chimes again – this time signaling the dismissal from school. Finn said 'goodbye' to Sam and Artie, and noticed that it seemed strange that Kurt and Blaine left _together _today. Huh. But Finn pushed it to the back of his mind as he and Puck took the long way home for one reason and one reason only – to get a glance at Miss Rachel Berry and the girls.

**Review? :)**


	4. Act One: Scene Three

**I tweaked this scene a bit, as you'll tell when you read it – the song alone and the things revolving around it is all that this scene really is in the musical, but I wanted it to be more of a chapter. This is the first thing I've ever written that you would call explicit, so cut me some slack, okay? Okay. Finchel, Klaine and Quick, of course. :) And if you'll notice, I re-organized the '…sittin' in a tree – k-i-s-s-i-n-g…' childhood song below to what the **_**SA **_**girls were most likely taught the order was. :) Remember to review!**

**But yeah, far warning, this chapter is M for a reason. **

**Thanks and enjoy.**

_Act One – Scene Three_

"…and the satin bow in the back!" Brittany remarked, describing the beautiful wedding dress the girls' older friend Mercedes had picked out.

"She's going to look so beautiful!" Santana giggled, clapping her hands as her long braids started slapping the back of her shoulders. The group – Miss Rachel, Miss Brittany, Miss Santana, and Miss Tina – were in the process of crossing the bridge to head back into town form where they were, down by the lake.

"I can't wait to get something new to wear!" Tina chirped, Santana suddenly turning from chipper to bitter in that one moment. "My mama promised to take me shopping in town…and Rachel – " she turned to her friend who had gone quiet – "…aren't you excited?"

"Hmm?"

"About Mercedes's wedding…?"

"Oh," Rachel sighed. "Mama said we cannot go…"

"Why ever not?" Brittany gasped.

"She said it would be…a little 'improper'…"

Rachel stopped herself. She knew her mother was being a bigot against her friend Mercedes because of who she was marrying…Shane, a forest inspector. Rachel herself saw nothing wrong of this; her mother, however, deemed him an 'improper husband' for such a woman as dear old Mercedes, and forbid Rachel to go to the wedding. She tried to protest, but…it was just no use. By the this time, the girls had crossed the bridge, and found themselves faced with two paths – they could cut across a different bridge, called Priapia Bridge, just a few traces away from where they were now, taking them straight home – or they could go the longer way – strolling through the artist colony that is the little enclave of Priapia.

"Let's go the long way!" Santana declared. "I don't need to be on my way home quite yet…"

"Maybe we'll see Quinn!" Brittany murmured hopefully to the girl who had just spoke, not realizing that although Priapia was not a _big _colony, it was still _big enough _to be a place where one could hide in if they never wanted to be found.

"Perhaps we shall, Britt…" Santana gave the blonde the satisfaction.

"But Rachel," Tina said, not able to wrap her head around the girl's previous answer. "You're really not going to show?"

The brunette shook her head and let out a small: "No."

"Then I do hope your mama approves of the man _I _long to marry," said Tina, her eyes dancing with happiness at the thought of a life as Mrs. Mike Chang. "I want you at _my _wedding!"

"Well," Santana started, teasingly. "We all know who _Rachel _longs to marry – _Finny Hudson_!"

"_Oooooh_!" Brittany giggled.

"I never – " but Rachel was cut off when her friends starting singing:

"Finn and Rachel sittin' in a tree – k-i-s-s-i-n-g! First comes marriage – then comes love – then comes the baby in the – "

" – Stop, stop, stop, now would you?"

"But would you just admit it?" Tina went on, Santana and Brittany giggling good-naturedly beside her. "You find him _wonderful_!"

"Well…" Rachel was blushing, yes, but then realized something – they already _knew _she found him wonderful, so why hide it from them? They _are _her _friends _after all! "Yes, yes, very well…he is _so wonderful_." Brittany shook her head and said:

"Finny Hudson – he's such a _radical_! You know what the whisper is, don't you? He's an _atheist_ – doesn't believe in a thing. Not in God, not in Heaven, not in a single thing outside this world!"

Rachel let out a long, collective sigh.

"But what about Mike Chang, or Artie Abrams?" Tina put in. "You can't just speak of one boy – you've got to line 'em all up, like horses…"

_In the midst of this nothing. This miss of a life. _

_Still there's this one thing just to see you go by._

_It's almost like lovin'. Sad as that is. _

_May not be cool, but it's so where I live. _

_It's like I'm your lover or more like your ghost. _

_I spend the day wondering what you do, where you go. _

_I try and just kick it but then what can I do?_

_We've all got our junk, and my junk is you. _

_See us, winter walking after a storm. _

_It's chill in the wind but it's warm in your arms. _

_We stop all snow blind, may not be true_

_We've all got our junk, and my junk is you…_

"And what about that sad, soulful, sleepyhead Noah Puckerman?" Santana laughed.

"Noah Puckerman?"

The girls whipped around at the familiar voice: "Quinn?" They all gasped together – and indeed there she was.

The beautiful blonde really _had _cut off her hair, leaving it less then shoulder-length, just like the whisper said. She was taller now, and her face more strikingly angel-like, with her porcelain skin and big, hazel eyes. Quinn looked great looks-wise, but condition-wise she looked like a nightmare – her hair was tasseled and un-brushed; the only thing making it look like she had put in any work to it at all was the white flower in her hair, behind one of her ears. On her neck, instead of the classic crucifix like all the other girls had, Quinn wore more then just that – her necklace had the same cross on it as it did before, but next to it on her neck was a different charm; a silver-and-gold peace-sign. Her dress – before she'd left town, elegant and sea-foam green – was now tattered and ripped across all different sides. She had dirt on her face, legs, and arms – whether this was a result of her being outside all the time or simply being unable to bath properly, the girls did not know. Aside from the dirt, Quinn had bumps and bruises all across her body, and two rather large gashes – one on her forehead, the other on her right knee. Her dress, now that the girls examined their childhood friend further, was not only cut consequentially, but purposely, so it seemed – there was a big tear down the dress from her neckline that was now stitched up with all different colors of thread. The rip that was made, however, seemed to be there as if someone were purposely trying to expose her chest.

"_What about _Noah Puckerman?" She demanded, crossing her arms where the gash in her neckline was.

"Quinnie Fabray…" Rachel walked slowly towards her former best friend. "I haven't seen you since – "

" – Did you not hear me speak?" The blonde snarled. "I said _what about Noah Puckerman_?"

The truth was, Quinn knew on the inside, that _Noah Puckerman _was all that kept her going at times. Not the narcotic, always-afraid-of-impending-danger, ghost of his former self which he is now – no, back in the days of Quinn's golden childhood haze, Noah Puckerman was a smiling, happy boy like any other. But not just that…he was special; special _to her_. He was beautiful and kind and loyal and…brave. Maybe he still _was _brave, Quinn figured. Maybe he had to be brave _everyday _of his life just to get up out of bed…like she once had to…

But still, even after she ran away, his bravery kept Quinn going in the tough nights she'd faced. First, there was Jesse St. James. He was good to Quinn, now that she looks back on it. He made sure she never went hungry. He only asked for…favors when he _really needed _them. But when Jesse left that cold, dark night, the blonde came back to his home to find everything gone with only a note from Jesse himself – it read that he had gotten a better job offer and certainly couldn't take Quinn to France with him. _Hmph_. After Jesse came the Warbler boys – Wes, David, Thad, Nick, Jeff, and Flint – friends of Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel. When they realized Quinn was out on the streets again, they kindly opened their home to her – she was good to them all and did whatever they so needed, and in the same respect they had all become close friends…even almost _family_…but no, Quinn didn't have a _family_. And she never would.

Then, _Jeremiah_.

Jeremiah was obviously in-the-closet, and Quinn was obviously his last resort to hold on to straight-dom. But she didn't let it faze her…at least, not at first. So she had to sleep with him a lot in his despite attempts not to except who is…so what? He gave her a roof over her head, food, shelter…

But then he got…violent. And more then just the kinky violence he favored in bed – _real _violent. Quinn would be minding her own business and find herself shoved against the wall, his tongue down her throat in a few seconds time – again, despite attempt – and soon his clothing would be discarded on the floor beneath them completely. He pulled at the neckline of Quinn's dress until some of the stitching came loose.

"N – "

" – Did I say you were _aloud_ to speak?" He snapped each time if the blonde tried to protest.

"_Please_…" she whispered; he didn't respond, but his eyes did – they said 'I'm sorry for doing this to you…but I have no other choice'.

And sooner or later they tumbled to his bed, and it was at that moment when he was breathing on her that Quinn realized just how much his breath smelled like hard whiskey. It was so common to her nose now – that smell. Everyone in Priapia drank – "from drunkenness comes pain," Flint, one of the Warbler boys told Quinn once as she and the rest of the Warbler gang downed liquor together. "And from pain comes _art_!" – And it was clear to Quinn that not only had Jeremiah been drinking more lately, but he was making much more art.

Jeremiah's long-ish, brown-blonde hair feel into his face as he pinned the blonde underneath him, trying his hardest to rip every stitch of clothing off her body. He kissed her, deeper now, and started rubbing her calves in hard, circular motions. She tried to kick him and hit him and fight her way out from under him, but he was just to strong for her to start with, and if she tried to get away he'd slap her again, or worse…Quinn knew he kept his pistol in the house. It was this paralyzing fear, perhaps, that made the girl think that fighting him was just no use.

"Why are you still _dressed_?" He demanded, trying to get Quinn's dress over her head. Now her belief that fighting him would only make it worse made her comply with him, taking her clothing off herself. "That's a good girl, Quinnie," his smile disgusted Quinn – he looked like a homeless mutt with rabies who had just found a scrap of food…Quinn, in this case, being the scrap.

There was no pleasure from it. Physically yes, but…mentally, emotionally…_no_ – there was nothing. Quinn felt nothing. Now she was totally and completely exposed, making her vulnerable to the long-ish-haired boy hovering above her in everyway – she was at his mercy.

"Be a good girl, Quinnie," he said to her, and finally she gave in completely to his will.

He kissed her even deeper now, moving his lips from hers to her neck, her shoulders, her breasts – anywhere he could easily access. He moved his hands from her legs up to where his lips had just been, kissing her breasts forcefully, sucking on one, and then the other. The boy was getting rougher now that he'd tested the waters, biting instead of kissing, and from there it simply just escalated. Quinn found herself moaning against her will; she hoped she could have muffled it somehow but of course she couldn't, and this only encouraged him to do more and move faster. He explored new areas with his hands and mouth and the blonde girl tried her hardest not to make a sound, but of course she couldn't stop herself. He told her to open her legs, and she did, and Quinn counted the seconds until it was over.

_See we still keep talkin' after you're gone. _

_You're still with me then; feels so good in my arms. _

_They say you go blind, maybe it's true. _

_We've all got our junk, and my junk is you…_

Similarly, Kurt and Blaine were busy at their own affairs, and other boys – Puck and Finn, mostly – were…what they liked to call 'visualizing'. Everyone had their own visions, thoughts, feelings to fight off. Everyone had their own troubles.

_You – _

_You – _

_You!_


End file.
